She was Drusilla's slave and slaves wore collars. It was not her place to question.Drusilla attached a lead to the collar and pulled Buffy gently to the floor. She walked her around the crypt on all fours, Buffy revelling in her humiliating subjugation, euphoric at Drusilla's dominance of her body. Eventually they stopped and Drusilla beckoned for Buffy to sit up.The cold metallic clink of the handcuffs around her wrist was positively wondrous. She offered her free hand without being bidden and soon it was happily constrained as well. A deep erotic throbbing seemed to surge up from within her as her hands relaxed gratefully into their new, deeply desirable imprisonment.The bit felt awkward between her teeth but she accepted it wordlessly. Next Drusilla produced a long black bar from her box of tricks and Buffy quailed for a moment, thinking she was to be beaten. But then she noticed the bracelets on the end and realised its true purpose.She felt the metal loops circle her ankles, the. I asked if they knew where I lived - it is about three hundred meters down the beach - they said they did. I told them to get their shit together and meet me on the back deck of my place in fifteen minutes and we would ‘discuss’ this. I used an authoritative tone of voice which I’ve heard from a principal or angry teacher many times growing up. Inside, I was laughing at myself, but Dan and Tim weren’t.The two horny teenagers scampered past me, and while pretending to be stern and adult-like, I enjoyed the view of Dan and Tim from behind.While they disappeared, it took me five minutes or so to finish packing up the surf-ski and grab my staff. When I walked out, I looked north towards my house and I just saw Dan and Tim walking up from the beach towards my back deck. They would have five minutes or so to stew while I wandered down the beach.A few minutes later I walked up to my back deck. Dan and Tim were sitting down but stood up when they saw me. They were now wearing more clothes.
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